


Strange Bedfellows

by Joylee



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Road Trip, Rumbelle Christmas in July, Rumbelle Christmas in July 2019 (Once Upon a Time), progressive politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-09 19:18:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19892980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joylee/pseuds/Joylee
Summary: The Town Council of Storybrooke made a mistake when they tried to cut the funding for the Storybrooke Public Library.  Belle French is now on the warpath and if it takes organizing an electoral challenge to the entire council so be it.  Politics makes strange bedfellows when she discovers that Mr. Gold worked as a political organizer in his youth.





	Strange Bedfellows

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lotus0kid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lotus0kid/gifts).



“Rise and shine everyone. This is Good Morning Storybrooke. Our lead story today, Beverly “Granny” Lucas, Marco Geppetto, Anton Little, Abigail Midas-Knight and award winning author, Issac Heller, have filed to run for the Town Council. Forming a united opposition to the sitting Council members. This is the first time in over two decades that all five of the Council seats have been contested. We have the contending candidates’ statements and reaction from the public, but first the weather.”

Belle mentally tuned out the weather report. She could see a cloudless June sky outside her window. The weather matched her mood. Not only had she successfully help organize a slate of candidates who were, among other things, committed to increasing funding to keep her beloved library operating, but she had managed to find them a political consultant who actually knew what he was doing.

Mr. Gold was an unexpected windfall. Unexpected in more ways than one. Belle didn’t know Gold very well. Prior to recruiting him to work on the campaign she had only actually spoken with him when he came to the library with his teenage son. She had found him to be a concerned and involved parent. He was even rather charming in an awkward kind of way.

Which was totally at odds with his reputation. As the principal landlord and money lender, Gold was heartily disliked by most of the town. Ashley Boyd, who used to work for him as a cleaner (and probably been fired for incompetence, Belle felt sorry for the girl, but even she could tell Ashley left much to be desired as an employee) maintained he was a Nazi. “A real one. He told me himself he worked to get their candidates elected to parliament back in Scotland.”

Since at Town Hall meetings Gold routinely spoke against the conservative measures the current Town Council tried to enact, Belle found Ashley’s claims hard to believe. He had backed Belle’s opposition to the Council’s attempts to ban books after all.

So when she realized that while she could write policy positions and even talk people like Anton into running for office, she had not the slightest notion how to actually run a political campaign she had take the chance of approaching the one person in town not allied with the current Council who apparently had some experience in doing so.

Gold has served her a lovely Tea and told her about his experience working for the Scottish National Party. He had been vastly amused to learn that Ashley had taken the SNP for Nazis. “Most Yanks when they hear ‘socialist’ assume Marxist not Facist.”

“I suspect that it was the ‘National’ that confused her.” Belle said. “And let’s face it, most Yanks don’t know about any politics but their own.”

“And that not well.” Gold agreed.

She had help in convincing Gold to work on the campaign from his thirteen year old son, Neal, who Gold called ‘Bae’ in an exhibit of a soft side. Neal clearly thought his father needed an outlet besides work. And had inherited enough of his father’s interest in politics to volunteer for the campaign as well sparking an interest in several of his friends.

Things were going well.

Gold called her later that morning. “The Party is having a training session on how to manage campaigns this weekend down in Manchester. I managed to talk them into letting us come even though the registration was already closed.”

“All right.” It did sound like something she should attend. Only… “You don’t happen to know if there is a bus to Manchester do you? I don’t drive.”

There was a pause. Then a hesitant. “You’re welcome to ride with me. Only I was planning on going and coming back the same day. It’ll make for a long day.”

“If you’re sure it’s no trouble.” Saving her bus and probably hotel costs would definitely help her budget. “I’ll bring snacks.”

He chuckled at that. “I’ll be glad of the company. But if you’re inclined to bring food, I’ll no turn it away.”

Despite the sun already being up, 6:00 was way too damn early to be awake, but Belle needed to time to do her hair and makeup. If she had been going by herself she would have thrown her makeup into her bag, pulled her hair back into a ponytail and gotten an extra half hour of sleep. But there was no way she was appearing before the always immaculately turned out Mr. Gold looking like she just rolled out of bed.

When he pulled up to her door precisely at 6:30 she was glad she had gone to the trouble. He got out to open the car door and help her stow her bag. Freshly shaved and smelling faintly of a wonderful spicy cologne, he was beautifully dressed in the waistcoat and slacks of a navy pinstripe suit, blue paisley silk tie, gold cuff-links and even sleeve garters. His suit jacket hanging in the back seat presumably to keep from wrinkling before they reached their destination.

He looked like he had just stepped out of the pages of one of her better romance novels.

The rough element of Storybrooke, comprised of fishermen and laborers, took Gold’s fine suits to be evidence of his sexual orientation. And, out of his hearing of course, made rude jokes about it. 

Belle, who had a good ear for accents, heard working class Glaswegian in Gold’s speech. She strongly suspected that those bespoke suits actually said ‘I may have come from nothing, but I have wealth and power now, cross me at your peril’. 

The message was a little too subtle from most of Storybrooke. Although she noticed that the wealthy Summer People who came through treated Gold with respect even before they discovered he owned a large portion of the town. 

“I brought tea as well as snacks.” Belle held up her two litter thermos as she settled into the passenger seat.

“So did I.” Gold waved toward a tartan patterned hamper complete with matching thermos sitting on the back seat. “What kind did you make?”

“Harney and Sons Black Currant.”

“Always a good choice. I’ve got PG Tips. There’s lemon as well as milk in the hamper.”

She managed to refrain from asking if it was the Gold blend as she set about serving tea while he drove. After trying both varieties they agreed that while the black current was more flavorful, the plain breakfast tea provided more of the punch needed for this early in the day. 

“Although for a real punch you need Granny’s coffee.” Belle said as she sipped.

“Never developed a taste coffee.” Gold said. “Grew up drinking my Aunts’ builder’s tea. Even after all these years in the states I still want me mornin’ cuppa.”

“How long have you been here?” Belle asked.

“In the states, twenty-four years. Moved to Storybrooke eighteen years ago now. And you?”

“Dad brought us over when I was sixteen, so thirteen years now.” He had mentioned he was still in University when he had worked for the Scottish National Party in the 1987 elections. Call it nineteen plus thirty-two years since those elections made him at least fifty=one. At thirty that did not make for an insurmountable age gap. 

Gold nodded thoughtfully. She wondered if he was doing the same math.

“I looked over the information you sent me about this training session.” She brought up when Gold did not continue the conversation. “You signed us up for separate panels during the afternoon break out sessions. Was that so we could cover more of the material?”

“That and the campaign finance law and ethics panels will give me continuing education credits with the Bar Association.” Gold said. “Now that I’m not actively practicing I tend to come up short on credits. I ended up having to attend a two day seminar on HIPAA Compliance last December to make my quota.”

“Well I’’m just as glad you didn’t sign me up for campaign finance rules.” She agreed. “The ones on polling you did pick out will probably tax my math skills as it is. The advertising and social media sessions in the morning look very useful though.” 

“Yeah, Need to keep up with the changing times. Used to be you could get by with stuffing a couple of ballot boxes and setting up a honeypot. Now you need to be able to hack the other side’s servers and collude with foreign powers to set up misinformation campaigns.” 

Belle choked on her tea, dropping her travel mug in the process.

Luckily the lid was on tight and only few drops spilled out onto her skirt. She scrubbed at it with her hand. 

“That was a quip, Dearie.” Gold told her dryly.

“Oh, thank God.” She really had to stop letting Ashley’s gossip influence her. Glancing over to see Gold’s smirk, she realized she had just been played. 

So she responded just as dryly. “Because I’m fairly certain we aren’t going to able to raise enough money to pay a hacker and the closest thing I know to a foreign power to colude with are Lumiere and Babette, the hairdressers. They’re French Canadian. I suppose they could give us some information about about Arthur King’s toupee.” 

Gold actually snickered. 

Neither said anything for a few minutes. Hesitantly she said. “If you prefer quiet I can read. Or I can keep talking and make sure you stay alert.”

“I can drive this part of the route in my sleep.” Gold said. “Probably have done on more than one occasion. Until he turned ten I used to round trip it from Storybrooke to Boston twice every other weekend to get Bae.”

“You had to pick him up and take him home?” Belle asked. “Isn’t it usual for parents to split the travel, or at least meet half way?”

“Milah could generally find some excuse for why she couldn’t make the trip.” Gold said. “I learned early on that if I wanted to see the boy it was up to me to transport him.”

“What happened when he turned ten?” Belle knew that Neal had only moved to Storybrooke shortly after last New Year. There had been considerable gossip about how Gold had gained custody. The consensus was that blackmail had figured in the process. 

“He informed us that it was ‘ecologically unsound’ for me to drive twelve hours for every visitation and that he would be taking the train from then on.” Gold chuckled. “His Mum pitched a fit saying he was too young but when the Judge discovered that Bae took the underground to school every day _by himself_ not only did he allow Bae to take the train, but he increased my visitation with the boy.”

“And now he lives with you.” Belle made sure not to make it a question. It was after all none of her business how the change came about.

“Aye.” Gold smiled. “By his own choice. Although it was a choice of living with me or moving with his Mum to Dubai. Still he told the Judge that interviewed him that he didn’t want to move to Dubai because he wouldn’t get to see me if he did.”

Instead the boy would not be seeing his mother. “Why did his mother move to Dubai?”

“Her partner got a job captaining the yacht of some Sheikh. Faced with a choice of leaving Bae or a long distance relationship with Killian, she picked Killian.” Gold voice went sardonic. “Probably wise. Bae will still love her even with not seeing her for months on end. Killian is an out of sight out of mind sort of fellow.”

The conversation turned toward the campaign after that. When the talk ran down, Belle read aloud from James Carville’s book.

They made it to Manchester half an hour before the training session was set to start. Belle took the extra time to make a run to the ladies room. When she came back she found Gold grinning at his phone. “Something amusing?”

“Aye.” He held up a selfie of Neal and Tilly, a foster child from the convent who was in Neal’s class, standing in the Golds’ kitchen covered in soap bubbles. “I texted to check on Neal and remind him I left him porridge in the slow cooker for his breakfast. Seems that it’s a fast day at the convent so Neal invited Tilly over to share the porridge. After polishing it off they decided that they were still hungry and made pancakes as well. But I’m not to worry, they cleaned up after themselves. I can but hope the kitchen is still standing when I get home. I know the shepherd’s pie I left for the boy’s lunch will be completely gone. Good thing I wasn’t counting on leftovers.”

There had been very tasty scones served when he had her to tea. Neal and half a dozen of his friends had been eating the rest of the batch in the kitchen. “You know if you keep feeding the entirety of Storybrooke’s ninth grade you’re going to find yourself the ‘cool Dad’.

“I doubt that.” Gold scoffed. “Their parents have no doubt raised them on tales of the Evil Mr. Gold who will steal them from their beds if they don’t behave.”

“All right, prove me wrong.” Belle challenged. “Keep letting them hang out at your house and providing food and see if you don’t win them over.”

He was saved from responding by the training session beginning. 

Belle’s head was spinning by the time the lunch break was announced. They had talked about a huge number of techniques and resources. The speakers gave suggestions on outreach and on the cheap canvassing ideas that would never have occurred to her. She was sure that she had missed things despite taking copious notes. Thankfully Gold was taking notes as well so between the two of them they probably had it covered. 

Gold pocketed the tablet he had used for his note taking and asked, “Any preferences on lunch? There’s an excellent Indian place not too far from here if you like that.”

“Oh, I love Indian food. I haven’t had any since I moved to Storybrooke.” Belle said. “Fond as I am of the town, it’s choices of cuisine are a little limited.”

“Yeah, I’ve cut back on my out of town trips since Bae came to live with me. Didn’t take long to tire of the three restaurants that constitute Storybrooke’s entire dining experience.”

“You forget the Rabbit Hole.” Belle reminded him as they got back to the car.

“Deliberately. I’m not fond of food poisoning.” Gold told her.

“And here I would have thought a good Scotsman like yourself would appreciate their menu of deep fried everything.” 

“On the contrary, as a Scotsman I regard myself as a connoisseur of the art of deep frying.” Gold responded. “The Rabbit Hole does not even begin to meet the standards of the poorest Glasgow chippie.” 

The restaurant proved very authentic. So much so that Belle tried out her Hindi and got them the attention of not only their server, but the proprietor and his aging mother, who apparently came in at lunch to cook the naan. And ensured that they were served the special biryani usually reserved for celebrations. 

Gold insisted on adding raita, mango chutney and mixed pickle to the meal. “Condiments have magical properties. And Indian cuisine has the best.” 

As they munched on their pakoras Belle mentioned “I was interested to hear what they had to say about recruiting candidates with name recognition. I’ve been a little concerned about having Isaac Heller running with our group. Even though he lives in the township he spends his time with the college community over in Castle Rock. But most of the town knows that he’s an author.”

“Without ever having read any of his books.” Gold noted. “Although that may work in his favor.”

“Have you read any of his books?” Belle asked. They were not the type of novels Gold favored.

“Made it through about five chapters of that one Mother Superior was trying to get banned from the library before I chucked it.” Gold told her. “If I’m going to wade through another man’s wet dreams I expect it to at least be erotic. Although I suppose it does take some kind of talent to make sex scenes dull.”

“Or maybe the reverse of talent.” Belle found herself nodding. “With all buzz he gets I assumed they just didn’t appeal to me because they were intended for a male audience.”

“A male audience that has never actually talked to a woman.” Gold scoffed.

“From the descriptions of the female characters, I don’t think he’s much interested in what’s going on above a woman’s neck.” 

“Which could be a problem with the half of the electorate that is female.”

“From the demographic numbers we got this morning it’s more than half.” Belle considered. 

“But he hasn’t actively alienated anyone I’m aware of. Although he does seem a bit… well, full of himself.” Belle hoped she was wrong in her assessment. She did not really know the man well.”

“He seems like a pompous ass. But the voters of Maine seem to like that type so we may do very well with him.” Gold observed.

They continued to talk about what had been covered in the morning session. Gold showed an acute understanding of how to use the information and considerable pleasure in planning strategy.

She had wondered before, but now she had to ask. “You enjoy this so much. What made you leave what had the looks of a promising political career in Scotland and come to the States?”

Gold took a long sip of his tea. Clearly stalling while he decided on an answer. Finally he said softly. “Milah got offered a job in Boston that she was going to take regardless of my feelings on the matter. I knew our marriage wouldn’t survive with an ocean between us, so in the end I picked the marriage over the career. My mate, Malcolm Tucker, who worked for the labor party, told me that Milah wasn’t worth it and I was being a fool. He proved right about Milah, but if I hadn’t come with her to America Bae would never have been born, and nothing would ever make me regret having my boy.”

What to say to that. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No it’s alright.” Gold assured her. But he changed the subject back to the campaign after that she noticed.

When they finished their meal the server gave the bill to Gold. Who promptly handed it back with his credit card. Belle waited for the server to leave before asking. “What do I owe you?”

“Allow me to of buy you lunch.” Gold told her. “It’s been a long time since I’ve such pleasant conversation and company for a meal.

“Er, that is… I know this is strictly campaign business.” He added quickly. “But there aren’t a lot of people in Storybrooke who care for my company, and fewer yet who I share interests with.” 

“I know.” Belle smiled at him. “I started the book clubs at the library so I’d have someone to talk to about books. It’s nice to find a friend who enjoys the same things I do.”

“And a friend can certainly buy a friend lunch.” Gold put in quickly.

“He can.” Belle smiled at him. Might as well go for broke. “And there is nothing that says friendship can’t grow into something more. If you might be inclined to to explore that.”

His eyes went wide and he had to clear his throat before speaking, “Uhm, that would be… that is… yes. If you would… I mean...”

He took a long drink of water. Clearly collecting himself, he continued a bit uncomfortably. “And that sort of articulateness demonstrates why I’d never consider running for office myself. 

“Well, that and the fact people don’t actually like me.” He added.

“I like you.” Gold actually blushed at that and used signing the credit card receipt as an excuse to avoid looking at her.

She was going to enjoy making him blush she decided as she finished off her chai.

So she took his hand as they left the restaurant. Though this brought a smile rather than a blush she enjoyed it immensely. So much so that when they got to the car and he opened the door for her she asked. “Is a friend allowed to kiss a friend?”

Gold licked his lips. “I-if the friend would like.”

It was a very nice first kiss. Gentle, yet clearly suggestive of more to come.


End file.
